Cupid's Wayward Arrow
by mizu
Summary: Mr. Chiba's gotta a teensy little problem--his benefactor/scholarship's run out. So, what does he do to gain extra cash? ::coughs:: (Trust me, the title's a GIANT theme in this.) A fanfic brought to you by Patch & Mizu Corp. (So, we don't own a compa
1. Default Chapter

Hiiyo everyone! Patch here along with Mizu who   
has... umm... gone underground somewhere.   
Darnit girl, I need your AN's!! Ehehe, anyhoo, I  
have a mission; to transform Mizu, self-proclaimed,   
angst writer into a WAFF writer. *Nods happily*  
It can happen! I have faith! So encourage her, ne?  
It'll help us both ^_^  
Enjoy reading!   
  
  
Cupid's Wayward Arrow  
Authors: Patch and Mizu  
E-mails: patchkhan1@hotmail.com &  
tokiya_ensui@yahoo.com  
  
Chapter 1: Never Listen to Motoki...  
insert some Mamoru grumbling here  
  
Disclaimers: Hmmm... ummm... Well... *looks   
at Mizu* Should I tell them? *Turns to readers*   
Minna, Sailor Moon, as you all know is...   
OURS! ALL OURS!! BWAHAHA!   
........  
We now return to the *real* world. Enjoy the   
show!  
  
  
Mamoru. The name doesn't sound too   
glamorous, now does it? Here's a little tale of how   
our tall, dark and handsome...err...prince ended up   
where he is now...   
  
It all started in a glorious kingdom. Birds   
chirped from their perches in high blossoming trees   
as their melodies echoed into the open fields. Horses  
  
frolicked around playfully, nipping at each other's   
shoulders. A tall handsome man strolled across the  
dewy meadow under the midday sun. He was decked   
in black armor, looking brawny to the brim. It was a  
glorious day indeed...  
"Yeah right," Mamoru grumbled under his   
breath, running to the closest shelter that he could  
find. Initially, he found a bus shelter in which to  
spend the storm in...well, that is, until that elderly  
lady started giving him that  
I-think-that-all-young-men-are-irresponsible look.   
She'd started giving him pointing gestures, murmuring  
stereotypes to the people around her. Finally, he  
made his decision. The rain   
seemed far more hospitable than the bus shelter.   
So, here he was, our knight in shining  
armor...or rather, pants and a wet green blazer. He  
rolled his eyes. To think what the dry cleaning bill   
for this thing was going to cost him.  
The thing was, our little *soggy* hero was   
in some financial difficulty. The day had started out  
  
nicely, no rain, no troubles, the works... that is,  
until he received the letter that informed him that  
his scholarship had been cancelled. Sometime during   
his moping period in class, he lost the keys to his   
motorcycle *and* his means of transportation  
home. Just to top off this *glorious* day, it started  
raining.   
Suddenly, he spotted it, like a shining   
castle in the fluffy white clouds. The Crown   
Arcade! He was saved! Dodging a few cars as he  
ran across the slippery street, he barged his way   
through the doors to the arcade, and his new shelter.  
Motoki was behind the counter, as usual,   
polishing a glass with a white rag. Mamoru's first  
thought was that Motoki looked too dry for his own   
good. That pitcher of water on that counter looked   
mighty tempting...   
Motoki glanced at the newest visitor,   
Mamoru.   
"Uh oh..." Motoki inched away, seeing   
the "If I have to suffer, you have to suffer" look on   
his best friend's wet face. Realizing Mamoru's   
probable intention, Motoki spotted the pitcher of ice   
water and quickly removed it from the vicinity of his   
grasp.   
"Should I even ask what your day was   
like?" Motoki smiled a genuinely cheerful smile that   
would make any girl melt into a puddle of goo. In  
fact, several sighs could be heard in the background   
from various girls. Mamoru replied with a simple   
grunt.   
"Aren't we the animal today?" Motoki   
grinned, grabbing a new towel from underneath the   
counter and throwing it at Mamoru. Mamoru   
caught it gracefully, immediately burying his face  
into the soft towel. Taking off the soggy blazer, he   
draped the towel on the padded seat next to him.   
At least his shirt wasn't too wet.   
"So what is it today? Want some coffee?   
Regular? Nothing makes the world go round like a   
little caffeine does, ne?" Motoki chirped, giving   
him that melting girls smile once again. Motoki   
was *way* too jolly for his own good. Goodness!   
Motoki could compete against old saint nick, if he   
wanted to. Mamoru gave his happy-go-lucky friend,   
one good, hard look, before he heaved a sigh.   
"Better make it large," he replied, resting   
his head on the ever-so clean counter (courtesy of   
Motoki, of course! ;)). "Actually, extra large   
sounds even better..."   
Motoki shrugged. "Will you tell me   
what's with the long face if I give you your coffee?"   
  
Mamoru raised an eyebrow, the   
classical cynical look spreading across his features.   
  
"Oh, resulting to bribery now, are we?"   
Motoki grinned, "Of course! How *else*   
would I be able to get information from you? Now   
will you tell me?" He asked, pouring a mug of the   
dark liquid and waving it tauntingly in front of   
Mamoru's face.   
Mamoru made a grab for the cup,   
however, Motoki managed to pull the cup away.   
"Tell me? *Please*? You know, I only want to  
help my very best friend..." He remarked in a   
singsong voice.   
Mamoru snorted.  
"Hey, I'm hurt!" Motoki mock whimpered.   
His face hardened as he mirrored Mamoru's cynical   
look. "Fine, no coffee for you. Honestly, you treat   
this stuff like it was a necessity of life."  
"It is!" Mamoru retorted, making another   
attempt at the steaming mug. Motoki yanked it away,  
the dark liquid threatening to teeter over the edge of  
  
the pristine-white mug.   
"Nope, not until you agree to tell me."   
"Arrgh...Motoki...let it be noted in the   
records that you *still* strive to turn me insane."   
"Of course!" Motoki nodded agreeably.   
"What do you think friends are for?"   
"Yeah, with friends like these, who needs   
enemies?" Mamoru muttered darkly. Where is a   
claymore* when you needed one?"   
"Come one, Mamoru-kun, tell me?"   
Motoki gave him his classic glassy-eyed, puppy   
dog look. A thump was heard close by. Motoki and   
Mamoru looked to see the source of the noise but  
upon seeing nothing, both of them shrugged. A girl   
must've fainted this time...   
"It's not working, Motoki. I'm *not* a   
girl, and I will *not* melt into a puddle when you  
smile."   
"You mean like this?" Motoki grinned   
handsomely again, his simple action causing some   
girls to flutter their eyelashes and sigh once more.   
"No demonstrations are needed, Motoki.   
Now, give me that cup!"   
Motoki drooped, the smile falling from   
his face as if Mamoru had peeled it off. "All work   
and no play makes Mamoru a dull boy...actually,   
come to think of it, you were one from the st--!"   
"MOTOKI!" Mamoru reprimanded, an   
indignant look spreading across his face. Slowly,   
he released his tension, falling back into his seat   
with a "plop". "Actually," Mamoru began, "I got a  
letter today from my beneficiary. They're cutting  
off funding to my scholarship."   
"I see," Motoki noted with a tone of   
finality, wiping his brow with a handkerchief.   
"The things I do to get you to tell me these   
things..."  
"I've only got so many funds for tuition.   
I can't neglect food, rent payments and the such.   
Sooner or later, I'm going to run out of cash.   
Motoki, what am I going to do?" Mamoru gave  
him a pleading look, which was quite rare.   
"Simple," Motoki replied. "Get a job."   
Mamoru raised his eyebrows. "A job?   
Who'd want to hire me? I don't have a full   
degree yet. Still working at that genetics major.   
No one would want to hire a genetic engineer   
trainee..."   
Motoki was silent for a few moments,   
face creased in thought. "Ne, Mamoru, stand up,   
could you?"   
Mamoru blinked.   
Motoki gestured at him. "Stand, Mamoru."   
"Yeesh, I'm not a dog..."  
"Just do it, Mamoru."   
Slowly, and very reluctantly, Mamoru   
stood up in his full height. (And it was an  
impressive  
height indeed... ;) )  
Motoki pursed his lips, rubbing his  
smooth chin. "Now turn around."  
Mamoru gave him another blank look.   
"What the...?"   
"Come on, turn..." Motoki urged him,  
turning his index finger in little spirals to  
visualize his point. Finally, Mamoru complied,  
turning very awkwardly.   
"Hmm..."   
Mamoru took his seat again. "Hmm...  
what?"   
"You know," Motoki suggested, "you   
could go into show business."   
*BLINK BLINK* followed by a   
"*WHAT*?!!!"  
"You've got the looks for it. Girls   
would fawn all over for you and you could earn   
more than enough to sustain you for quite a while..."  
Mamoru gave Motoki a doubtful look.   
"Well..."   
"I know this great agent! Their company   
is bound to find you a job!"  
More doubtful looks from Mamoru...  
"Come on! Give it a try! It wouldn't hurt,  
now would it?" Motoki coaxed, giving Mamoru the   
most supportive look he could muster.   
Mamoru shrugged. "Why don't you try it?"   
He gave Motoki a grin, as a collective sigh from   
behind accompanied him. He frowned. "You know,   
Motoki, you should really do something about  
that."   
"What? The girls?" Motoki dismissed   
the thought, waving his hand casually. "They're the   
same bunch...always going rosy cheeked and giggling   
girlishly. Although, I'm still single, aren't I?"   
Motoki winked at Mamoru, a roguish grin appearing on  
his face. He returned to his glass-polishing.   
"Nah, this isn't my type of thing...it doesn't   
sound like me. Chiba Mamoru...an actor..." Mamoru   
shook his head.   
"Well...if you say so..." Motoki sighed,   
looking as if he were at loss.  
"Oh, Motoki, one more thing..."  
"Hm?" Motoki paused, glancing at Mamoru.   
"Give me my COFFEE!"   
  
***  
  
*claymore - one of kana's weapons of the  
day...something she threatened me with if I didn't get  
  
the next chapter of FW out... I think it looks   
kinda like a war club...   
  
***  
Soooo, do you all like so far? Wonder where we're  
going? Curious? Interested? Muhahaha, the fun's just  
begun. Remember, encouragement! We like  
encouragement ^_^   
Patch (kana) & Mizu  
~~~~~~~~  
Sept 00'  



	2. Chapter 2

Patch AN's: Welps, another chapter out, another  
chapter down, MUHAHAHA. Hope you're   
enjoying it so far. Did we mention this was an  
alternate reality? *Grins* Well, now ya know,  
be happy.  
  
Mizu AN's: ::grumbles a la mizu:: happy? Mizu is   
*SO* dead now…means I have to crank up a chapter   
asap…::give kana a meaningful look as mizu pops up   
from a pile of homework assignments::  
  
Cupid's Wayward Arrow  
Authors: Mizu & Patch  
E-mails: patchkhan1@hotmail.com   
& tokiya_ensui@yahoo.com   
  
Chapter 2: The Coffee Needs a Drinker  
insert a few o.O;; faces here  
  
Disclaimer: now, if we *did* own sailor moon,   
we'd be rolling around in a whole bunch of dough   
and whatever we wrote would probably become fact   
instead of fanfiction…(you wouldn't be surprised   
if evil endy fell in love with someone named   
"kana" ^^;;) but ya know what? Naoko Takeuchi   
owns sailor moon, not us…(to kana's   
disappointment… ;) )   
  
After Mamoru had left, Motoki stared   
at the mug his friend had drunk his coffee in.   
With a start he realized that the mug was still   
half full with the black liquid that Mamoru liked   
best.  
Motoki leaned forward and resting his   
forearms on the counter, took hold of the white   
mug and contemplated it. Man, he thought, his best   
friend was just like his coffee; you could be put   
off with the first taste, it was that bitter, but   
after some time it became something you could   
depend on, in a good way.  
Mamoru had been like this drink when   
Motoki had first met him. Cool and aloof, he made   
people *want* to stay away. But Motoki had   
broken through the walls of the coffee mug and   
found what he knew he would find all along. The  
tall, dark haired man that always seemed to carry   
a cold presence around him was actually... decent.   
He was reliable, warm, and really not that   
unfriendly. Just like the coffee...  
And now all the coffee needed was   
someone to drink it. His face broke into an unholy   
grin at the thought but quickly fell away when the   
temperature began to rise drastically. Darn  
teenage girl hormones. He couldn't even smile   
around here without feeling the heat (AN: no pun   
intended ^_~).  
He turned on the small fan he kept   
behind him on one of the shelves and sighed.   
Mamoru definitely needed someone, a special   
girl, one that wouldn't be scared away at the   
first encounter. But who? He pursed his lips in   
concentration.  
So entangled in his thoughts was he,  
that he didn't see the parlor doors slide open or   
hear the small 'ding!' that followed. He didn't   
even notice the person who had entered sit  
directly in front of him until they spoke.  
"Ne, Motoki, instead of striking a   
sexy pose for your fans, could you get me a  
tall glass of Coke?"  
He snapped out of his musings in a   
flash when he realized someone was speaking   
to him. He looked to see a beautiful woman in  
an expensive business suite sitting on a bar   
stool across the counter and right in front of   
him. Bemused baby blue eyes met his and   
full pink lips began to form a pout as finely  
manicured nails drummed on the countertop in   
impatience.  
"Toki-chan?"  
Motoki's mouth dropped open when   
the woman spoke again. No, it was not the   
informal nickname that had been spoken by her,   
that was something old. No, it was the   
realization he had hit upon. He continued to stare   
in amazement at Tsukino Usagi, advertising agent   
extrordinaire for the Toshiba Advertising Agency.   
Young and right out of college, she was already   
well known in the entertainment world for her  
commitment and determination to see her clients  
find their places in the entertainment industry.   
A few of them had moved from making small   
commercials to being cast into sitcoms and  
movies. Experts said she had the knack for  
finding future stars.  
But Motoki ignored all of this and in   
an instant had half climbed over the counter to   
grab Usagi's shoulders in a tight grip causing her   
to shriek slightly.  
"Usagi! You are the drinker for the   
coffee!"  
  
Usagi: o.O;;  
  
"I'm serious Usagi, you are just what the coffee   
needs! You are going to break down the mug's   
walls and experience true love! It's absolutely   
perfect!"  
  
Usagi: o.O;;  
  
Usagi, who was more than shocked to say the  
least, tried to slip out from Motoki's grip, but   
failed dismally. She tried not to be obvious   
about it but when he continued to hold her with   
a look on his face that said he had reached an   
epiphany, she knew she had to be direct.  
"Motoki, can you please let go of me now?"  
"Nani? Oh, yeah, yeah. Gomen."  
He released her shoulders and she   
sank back down into her seat. After brushing off   
her shoulders, she looked at him curiously. "What  
has gotten into you? You scared me there for a  
second. Wait, have you been sniffing those   
coffee beans again?" she asked playfully.  
He shook his head slowly as he filled   
a tall glass from the soda fountain for her. "Iie,   
I was just, umm, spouting poetic nonsense," he   
told her, sliding the glass over to her. "It's   
been a habit of mine lately... to spout... stuff."  
Usagi looked at him strangely before taking   
a long sip. "Okay Motoki, whatever you say," she   
murmured. A moment of comfortable silence passed   
between them before he spoke.  
"So anyway, enough of about me," he   
said cheerfully, "how's it going with you?" Too   
cheerfully.  
Usagi sighed and rubbed her forehead   
wishing she could be a teenage girl. At least then  
her only worry would be impressing cute guys   
like the girls behind her were doing. But she was   
twenty, too old for such a thing, had a career to   
maintain and desperately needed a miracle. She   
spun the glass between her fingers, taking in the   
dark amber liquid, the bubbles rising to the top,   
the ice cubes clinking against each other, before   
looking at Motoki helplessly.  
"I'm doomed," she half wailed, letting   
her head drop into her arms.  
Motoki paused in mid-wipe of the   
counter and leaned forward, resting his elbows   
on the already too clean top. "What's the matter   
Usagi-chan? I'll try and help any way I can, you   
know that."  
Sighs and a few more thuds to the floor   
were heard following this statement, accompanied  
by comments like, "Hubba hubba, he can help me   
any day," and "Where's the line to sign up?"   
(AN: Mizu & Patch *sweatdrop*)  
But these all went unheeded by Usagi   
who had other concerns at the moment. She really   
needed a miracle, she realized.  
"You already know about it," she finally   
said unhappily, "It's the latest demands from that   
candy company, 'Sweets and Stuff'. They want a   
Cupid to start shooting their Valentine's Day  
commercials, even though that holiday is *months*  
away. And Kami help me, but I've looked   
everywhere but I can't find a darn Cupid   
anywhere!"   
Motoki turned around in the guise of   
getting something from the shelf but it was really   
for the ear-splitting grin that he couldn't show   
Usagi. Oh, life was certainly going well these   
days and it was only about to get more   
interesting. If he had his way he would have done   
a little jig but that would be quite... abnormal   
so he contained the urge to do so. (mizu AN: not   
funny kana… ^^;;)Instead, he composed himself and   
turned around coughing slightly before smiling   
widely.  
"Usagi! Is that all you're worried about?"  
She gaped at him as if he had just   
transformed into the ugliest man alive. "Is that   
all? Motoki, how can you even ask such a question?   
My job is depending on this and if I can get the   
right person, not only will my client be getting   
big bucks, so will I! And if I don't I'm in for   
it! It's a heck of a lot to worry about Motoki!"   
She crossed her arms and glared at him.  
"Usagi-chan, you're getting too stressed   
over this. You said you needed a miracle and I've   
got it. I know someone who's perfect for the part   
and he could use the money too. I think he's the   
Cupid you're looking for," Motoki finished with a  
wink, smiling a little too brightly.  
"Does he have any acting experience?"  
"Well, not really," at Usagi's  
disappointed look, he quickly hastened to add,   
"but he's a model and you and I both know models   
can act as well as any other actor or actress.   
Give him a try, I'm sure you won't be   
disappointed." In more ways than one, Motoki   
thought, secretly pleased with himself. The fact   
that he had lied straight through his teeth about   
Mamoru being a model did not bring him down at   
all. He reasoned he was doing it for a good cause.   
He wanted to bring the coffee to its drinker, he   
thought adamantly.  
Besides, Mamoru *looked* good enough  
to be a model, surely that counted for something.   
Half those sighs and thumps he heard on a regular  
basis usually occurred when Mamoru was in the   
vicinity. There had to be some sort of connection   
to that and Mamoru was just too daft to even   
realize it.  
"Fine, I'll give him a chance, what's his  
name?"  
"Chiba Mamoru. He's a great guy, a bit  
standoffish at first but a real teddy bear once   
you get to know him." He winked and Usagi graced   
him with another odd look. Motoki continued to   
smile, even though it hurt to do so. He heard   
Usagi mumble, "I don't want to know," but ignored   
it, his smile becoming even wider.  
"So when do you want to meet him?"  
"Tomorrow would be good, say around  
three or so. You know where my office is, just   
give him the address," Usagi took out a business   
card and handed it to her friend. Standing up she   
looked at him with serious eyes. "I hope you're   
right about this Chiba guy, Motoki. If his first   
name means anything, I'll be more than grateful.   
Time's running out."  
"Oh I know I'm right," Motoki assured   
her. "He'll be perfect for the job," he called out   
as she left the store, waving at him.  
As soon as the doors swished closed   
behind her, he quickly grabbed the cordless phone   
from underneath the counter and dialed a number   
he knew by heart.  
"Moshi Moshi," a weary voice answered.  
"Mamoru, you, my friend, have got   
yourself a job. Show up at the 12th floor of the   
Toshiba Building at three tomorrow and you will be   
on your way to receiving some major payments."  
"NANI?!?!"  
Motoki held the phone away from his   
ear, all the while grinning. "No need to thank me,   
pal, just show up and get your due."  
"Motoki," one very angry Mamoru   
growled, "what have you done?"  
"Nothing at all! Just put in a good word   
or two for you. Now you don't want to keep her   
waiting tomorrow so make sure you show up on   
time, ne?"  
"What kind of job is this Motoki?"  
"Oh, just a little bit of acting for a  
television commercial, nothing much..."  
"MOTOKI!!"  
"Oh, customers, Mamoru. Gotta go. Oh   
and just remember one thing, you were a model in   
your past life."  
Click.  
Mamoru stared at the phone he was   
holding. Maybe he could pretend it was his best   
friend's neck and squeeze ever so tightly. And   
maybe, just maybe, if he concentrated hard enough,   
some form of voodoo would take over and   
Motoki would feel the chokehold Mamoru had on   
the phone. It was definitely a pleasant thought.  
He sighed and thought to what Motoki   
had said last. He was a model... in his past   
life... Did he even want to know?  
  
=======  
note: ne, if you're asking why mamoru is still in   
school while usagi is off working…err…well, let's   
just say that mamoru's course requires him to stay   
in school for a while longer (kinda like medical   
school…or something or the sort…) ^^;;   
  
Oct 00'  



	3. Chapter 3

Patch's AN's: Howdy everyone! It took us a bit   
but we finally have the next chapter out for   
you all to enjoy. Now in case you haven't   
realized it yet, this *is* a comedy so don't   
forget to smile! ^_^ My Mizu-momma/poppa did a   
wonderfulicious job on this one. Enjoy!  
  
Mizu's AN's: ::jigs:: yay! Another chapter!   
Courtesy of kana and I! ::pulls a reluctant   
kana along into the jig who later turns @_@::   
ehehe...^^;; Anywho, ::pokes kana:: bug obaa-  
san over here (patch) to do the next chapter...   
;)   
  
Disclaimer: ever notice that this note always   
states the obvious? (readers glare at fanfic   
authors) ^^;; Anyway, sailor moon belongs to   
naoko takeuchi.   
  
Chapter 3: Not my cup of coffee…and what is   
that green stuff?   
yes…kana and I inject caffeine into our   
systems daily ^^;;  
  
Mamoru stared down at his wrist watch.   
His wrist watch stared back at him in a vacant   
mechanical fashion, reading,  
"two forty-five..." Mamoru noted,   
brushing back his coal-black hair for the   
umpteenth time that day...err...make it hour...   
^^;; Needless to say, he was just a little   
frazzled about this prospecting job that Motoki   
literally pounced on him through the telephone.   
...Toshiba building...Twelve   
floor...three o'clock...  
Mamoru heaved another sigh. "I will not   
be angry at Motoki," he repeated to himself   
over and over, trying to quell that part of him   
that still clung onto the idea of ringing   
Motoki's neck. In fact, he was still muttering   
profanities under his breath as he walked into   
an elevator filled with people in business   
suits. He looked at his reflection in the   
metallic elevator wall and gave himself a   
single, curt nod of approval that went   
unnoticed by everyone.   
Good idea I chose the green jacket, he   
thought as he wedged himself between the wall   
and a woman holding a clipboard. The   
passengers in the elevator left for every   
consecutive floor, however, to Mamoru, who   
couldn't help being a little nervous, it felt   
like an eternity.   
By the time he got to the twelfth floor,   
he navigated himself to the media branch.   
Stopping at a cherry wood door, his eyes caught   
sight of a bronze plaque.  
"TSU-KI-NO U-SA-GI, talent agent," he   
articulated carefully, just to make sure he was   
in the right place.   
"Very good," a voice behind him   
applauded, nearly driving Mamoru from his   
steady standing spot.   
"What the...?" He turned to see what had   
nearly made him jump out of his skin. A petite   
blond stood in a dusty pink business jacket and   
vest looking very harmless—at least, at first   
glance…   
"You're Chiba Mamoru, I assume?" She   
said demurely, an absent look settled   
comfortably on her face. She turned the brass   
knob on the door to enter into her office.   
Mamoru could only nod in reply. He   
followed her in like an obedient child and   
accepted the seat that she offered in front of   
her desk.   
"Coffee?" She asked, offering him a blue   
mug filled with that glorious liquid. Mamoru   
nodded hesitantly, not quite sure what he   
should do next. Slowly, he lifted the cup to   
his lips, taking a tiny sip.   
Gah! The stuff was cold! He swallowed   
the dark liquid carefully. Not wanting to be   
impolite to his possible savior, he took   
another sip…and another…then a gulp… He winced   
a little…yeesh! This stuff tasted terrible   
cold! What was this? The remaining laundry   
water from old socks?   
Usagi took a sip from the cup of coffee   
she retrieved for herself, made a face and put   
it down again on her gargantuan desk. She took   
one look at Mamoru. How could he stand this   
stuff? She smiled pleasantly at him. "So,"   
she drawled, "Motoki tells me you've had   
experience as a model..."  
Mamoru nearly choked at that statement.   
Pausing, he swallowed the latest gulp of the   
sock water and nodded, a false smile creasing   
his face in attempt to hide his fib.  
"Ah, so you don't mind the early hours   
and the long days..." Usagi murmured to   
herself, as Mamoru gave her another all-too-  
innocent smiles.   
"No, no, Ms. Tsukino! I *love* early   
mornings! Long days are built into my system,"   
Mamoru cringed inwardly...that was one *cheesy*   
way of impressing a talent agent. Usagi   
swerved in her leather recliner seat, and   
stared at him slack-jawed.   
"Honestly, I don't understand how you   
people do it," she said, turning into a ghastly   
shade of white. "Uh-uh…" She shook her head   
like a small child refusing to eat their   
vegetables—or anything green, for that matter.  
Well, that went well! Mamoru thought   
sarcastically, pushing his enthusiasm back to   
the closet where it had crawled from.   
"Do you have some pictures from photo   
shoots then?" Usagi asked, ready to pencil in   
his answer on a pad of torn papers.  
"Umm...no."  
Usagi stared at him.   
"Commercials?"   
"No..."  
"School pictures?!"   
Mamoru shook his head.  
Usagi heaved a sigh, slowly, as if she   
were controlling her non-existant temper. She   
turned her eyes heavenward and flung the pad of   
paper behind her. "I'm doomed," she said in a   
condemning tone.   
"It can't be *that* bad," Mamoru said   
soothingly, wanting to pat the poor girl on the   
back. He heard her mutter something about   
"Motoki" and "Why me?"  
She started wailing incoherent words   
about ringing Motoki's neck and it being   
useless.   
"Glad someone feels the same way I do,"   
shrugged Mamoru. Although, it did break his   
heart to see the girl in the tormenting   
situation she was in. "How about this,"   
offered Mamoru, "we'll go out to lunch and get   
something to calm down the nerves? Come on,"   
he wheedled, "You can pick the restaurant."  
Almost instantly, the wailing stopped,   
followed by the sound of an ambitious Usagi   
stuffing papers into her bag.   
"Let's go," she replied autonomously.  
Mamoru raised his eyebrows. Talking   
about change of heart...  
  
***  
  
They were green, *very* green. In some   
sections, it was transparent, in others, opaque   
and seemingly impenetrable. Their sloped forms   
curved into a river of thick goo of some   
unknown source.   
Mamoru raised his eyebrows. He didn't   
order vegetables, or at least, he didn't   
remember doing so. He prodded at one of the   
creatures with a fine silver fork. Either it   
was his imagination or he was very tired, but   
he could've sworn the thing blinked back at   
him. He dropped his fork with a quiet thump on   
the linen-covered table.   
Usagi looked up from her large bowl of   
cream mushroom soup. "Something wrong?" She   
asked, spoon pausing midway en route to her   
mouth.   
Her lunch companion blinked. "Huh? Oh,   
this?" He quickly picked up the fork (and   
almost spilled his water in the process) and   
pointed at his fork at his swamp-colored meal.   
The plate seemed more appetizing than its   
contents...   
"Eat up then, you need to eat," she said   
firmly, as if stating a law of life. Skipping   
lunch, to her, was sacrilegious.  
"Ehh..." He poked at one of the green   
creatures again.   
Usagi stared at him, "Go on..." she   
nudged him on.  
He punctured one of the creatures with   
his weapon of choice; the fork. They were   
soft, he admitted, as he lifted on off the   
china plate with a disgusting squelching sound.   
Slowly, he lifted the morsel of green   
*something-or-other* to his mouth. Opening his   
parched lips slowly, in went the morsel, and   
out went Mamoru's sanity, or so he thought. He   
must be crazy to eat something like this,   
especially for a job. He chewed once, then   
twice, then swallowed with an audible gulping   
sound. They tasted rather salty, like swamp   
water, and smelled rather salty, like swamp   
water, and the meal itself looked like (you   
guessed it!) swamp water.   
What possessed me to order this? Mamoru   
thought, regretting every single moment between   
leaving Usagi's office and to this ongoing   
point. Then again, the only thing he could   
understand on the menu was this particular   
entrée, which meant spiced peas, or so he   
thought. In fact, that entrée did sound rather   
suspicious to him. Why would a restaurant   
serve "spiced peas"? But *no*, he didn't   
listen to that little voice inside his head   
telling him *not* to order anything outside a   
glass of water.   
"Eat them, they're a novelty," Usagi   
smiled brightly at him and returned to her   
soup. Now all Mamoru had to do was figure out   
exactly *what* that novelty was.  
However, what captured his attention most   
was that smile of hers. For once, during that   
day, she'd flashed him a truly generous smile.   
Well, it was probably brought upon by food, but   
for some reason, unknown to Mamoru, it seemed   
to brighten his day a little. Those regrets   
that he had suddenly dissipated into thin air   
as the creatures on his plate beckoned to him.   
  
***  
  
Lunch did a number on his wallet, but   
Mamoru saw the meal as a task, perhaps even a   
test. However, this test would leave him with   
his trusty anti-stomach pain medication friend.   
Somehow, he managed to trudge himself back to   
Usagi's office. He flopped himself comfortably   
on the seat by the table and proceeded to get   
back to the interview.   
"Where was I?" Usagi pulled out a bunch   
of other papers from the ground. She turned   
one upside down and grinned. "yes, photos..."  
Mamoru cringed. "Don't have any, sorry."   
Usagi gave him that same stare she did before   
lunch before nodding curtly.  
"Take off your clothes." A simple   
statement, one that meant the world to Mamoru.   
"Wha...?" Mamoru gaped at her. She   
didn't just say what I thought she did, did   
she?   
"Take off your clothes," she said firmly.   
Mamoru continued to gape at her. A   
demanding woman, indeed. However, he wasn't   
really interested in a steamy relationship with   
this woman...yet. He suppressed the urge to   
grin devilishly, but nevertheless, his lips   
twitched slightly upwards.  
"Don't be a hentai! I'm not going to   
defile your dignity or anything," she sighed,   
rolling her eyes. "I need to see your   
physique. After all, you are going for the   
cupid role, ne?"   
Mamoru blushed; a rare event that occurs   
once every few years or so. Gingerly, he   
peeled off his clothes, exposing his torso.  
And what a torso indeed...Usagi's eyes   
widened. I wonder what...no! Usagi held her   
hormones back, getting back to the business at   
hand. (Interesting business, ne?)   
Mamoru had a gorgeous figure. His skin   
was pulled tautly over firm muscles and sinews.   
He had the classic Greek physique; which was   
naturally perfect for the role of cupid.   
They'd better not be looking for the role   
of Psyche, Usagi's eyes flattened. I'll ring   
whoever...? Wait a moment...where did *this*   
thought come from?   
"Turn around, please," Usagi murmured,   
voice a little husky.   
Obediently, Mamoru turned himself around,   
rotating a complete 360 degrees for inspection.   
"Need the pants off too?" Mamoru asked, then   
recorded in his mental agenda to slap himself   
for that later.   
Usagi gulped, trying miserably to   
maintain her calm, collected self.   
Fortunately, Mamoru was too embarrassed for   
himself to even notice.   
"Umm...no, no, it's not necessary," Usagi   
managed to say, straightening her collar, which   
had suddenly began to feel tight around her   
throat.   
"So, would I get the part?" Mamoru   
asked, sitting himself down on the seat once   
more, forgetting to dress. Her answer was more   
important than anything at the moment.   
"Uhh..." she began. "Yes, yes you do,   
Chiba-san." She rose from her seat,   
"Congratulations."   
However, upon rising from her overgrown   
chair, a magazine had decided to land just   
where she was about to step, causing her to   
slip and have her face meet the lovely desk.   
"Ack!" She yelped, landing right   
into...Mamoru's arms? She blinked, unable to   
get her footing. Mamoru blinked, holding a   
rather frazzled Usagi in his bare arms.   
The door suddenly opened, revealing   
Usagi's receptionist. Both Mamoru and Usagi   
held their breaths, the tension growing in the   
air around them. The receptionist went to the   
desk mechanically, dropped some folders and   
left out the door without a single peep or   
glance. The door shut with a loud thud as both   
Mamoru and Usagi let out a sigh of relief.   
However, the door opened again, as Usagi   
and Mamoru became still as statues once more.   
They looked very much like two people, posing   
in an embrace, in the midst of...  
"Never mind," the receptionist blinked,   
then frowned, then finally shook her head. She   
looked from Usagi to Mamoru and then back   
again. "I won't even ask..."   
The door shut again for the last time   
that afternoon, however, Usagi had the feeling   
that her co-workers wouldn't let this itty bit   
of juicy gossip out of their grasp. It was   
going to be a *long* afternoon indeed.  
  
***  
  
Psyche – the wife of Cupid, I think...   
Cupid *is* from Greek Mythology, I think...  
(Lot's of unsure answers, I know... ^^;;)   
  
mail is nice. (Hint! Hint!) ;)  
  
December 10/2000  



	4. Chapter 4

Patch's AN's: *Ducks flying objects* Ack! Okay   
okay! I'm sorry this has arrived so late. Don't   
blame Mizu, blame me, the lump o' lard over   
here. No wait! Don't flame me! Aaaaaack!   
  
Mizu's AN's: O_O (still cramming for math...)   
  
Usagi's note: thank god for cheap pumps and   
Romans! ;)   
  
  
Chapter 4: I'm too Sexy for my Shirt, too   
Sexy for my Hat, too Sexy...   
(You know the song)   
Authors: Patch & Mizu   
E-mail: patchkhan1@hotmail.com   
tokiya_ensui@yahoo.com   
Rated: good question. ^^;;   
  
Disclaimer: The brand name, Calvin Klein,   
doesn't belong to us-you heard us! NE OWN PAS   
DES UNDIES! ::clears throat:: excuse my   
terrible French. ^^   
...   
Oh, sailor moon belongs to Naoko Takeuchi.   
(psst! We don't think she owns Calvin Klein   
either!) ^^;;   
  
The room was silent, deathly so. Rays from   
the bright afternoon sun filtered through the   
tall, glass windows that made up one wall of   
the large, spacious office. Dust particles   
danced lazily in the air and there was a   
certain calm, stillness that filled the   
atmosphere. In fact, it could be said that   
there was no sign of a living being ever having   
stepped into the office. However, that   
observation just could not be considered   
plausible because there was a living being that   
was currently occupying the office. Not just   
one, but two living, breathing, hot-erm, warm-  
blooded humans who were entangled in each   
other's arms.   
Picture this, a gorgeous although very   
conservatively dressed, blonde haired woman   
caught in the strong, muscular arms, of a bare   
backed, dark haired, Playgirl material male.   
Ooh la la. A scene straight from the cover of a   
Harlequin romance novel.   
"Do you usually carry such a bulky wallet   
around?"   
Maybe not.   
"Nani?"   
Mamoru dropped Usagi into her chair and   
quickly took a step back, a blush creeping over   
his face. A bulky wallet? He would have laughed   
out loud had he not been so busy tamping down   
his mortification. Although... she did think   
he was bulk- HENTAI!   
He mentally slapped himself a few times   
before looking at Usagi. She looked as   
flustered as he probably did, a few blonde   
hairs having escaped her ponytail, to frame her   
face, her blue eyes wide and tinged with   
confusion. He suddenly had the biggest   
urge to tuck back those stray hairs and kiss   
her eyelids...   
A few more slaps to his mental self and   
Mamoru was finally composed.   
"Gomen, I hope..." his voice trailed off   
as he found himself with nothing to say.   
She waved him off, fixing her hair and   
sitting up straight. "It's alright," he heard   
her mumble. He smiled apologetically and   
managed to get his legs to walk him back to his   
own seat. He picked up his shirt and slipped it   
on, and then began doing his buttons, looking   
anywhere else except at the woman who sat   
before him.   
When he had finished with the last button,   
he sat down, hesitating a bit when he heard a   
small sigh from somewhere. It sounded like a   
sigh of disappointment and he looked   
suspiciously at Usagi, who was busy   
staring at her nails. He shrugged and made   
himself more comfortable. It was probably the   
wind, he thought. A most feminine wind indeed.   
"So where were we?" Usagi asked,   
assembling the mess of papers on her desk into   
some sort of order.   
"Well, you told me that I had gotten the   
job." What exactly had he accepted, anyway?   
"Aah yes, the role of Cupid. Now, I'm   
going to need you to sign some things..."   
Bingo, that was it. And now he would be getting   
the money he so desperately need-- His thoughts   
suddenly halted to a screech. Cupid? Had Usagi   
just said what he thought he had heard? He was   
going to play the role of that pudgy little   
cherub that frolicked in nothing but a diaper,   
and shot arrows into unsuspecting fools?   
He stared blankly at the papers that Usagi   
was placing in front of him.   
"Did you say Cupid?" he asked suddenly,   
interrupting Usagi's flow of speech. She   
looked at him oddly before nodding. God, Usagi   
thought, that lock of hair that looked so   
adorable falling on his forehead like that was   
driving her nuts. But no, she could not forget   
the Golden Rules of the Workplace. No mixing   
business with pleasure. Or was it the other way   
around?   
Either way it was the same thing and she   
intended to stick to the little phrase. No   
matter how badly her hands itched to touch that   
silky...raven-black lock... of hair...   
"But I'm not chubby in any way!"   
She snapped to attention at his protest.   
Oh he wasn't chubby in any way or form, she   
could wholeheartedly agree with him on that. He   
was such the opposite. He was a lean, nicely   
built, sexy- Oh! She was doing it again! She   
stopped the urge to fan herself and forced   
herself to focus on why Mamoru was   
declaring he wasn't chubby.   
"What does that have to do with anything?"   
she asked.   
"Well," he motioned at something imaginary   
and then at himself. "Isn't Cupid supposed to   
be a fat, little fellow?"   
"Oh! Well, you'll be playing the kind of   
Cupid that'll have girls drooling for the   
chocolates you're selling and their boyfriends   
rushing out to buy them for their own safety's   
sakes."   
"But doesn't Cupid wear a diaper?" She   
sat back and looked at him critically over the   
steeple formed by her fingers. "You won't be   
wearing a diaper, exactly. You will be scantily   
clad, if that's what you're trying to say. But,   
you shouldn't have any problems with that, ne?   
Motoki did mention something about you modeling   
underwear for a while."   
"What?!"   
"Now don't worry. We won't have you   
wearing anything that's as..." she gulped and   
went on, "as form-fitting as underwear." She   
pictured Mamoru in Calvin Klein and nearly   
threw herself towards the windows. What in   
heaven's name was wrong with her today?   
Apparently her hormones had decided to awaken   
at the wrong moment. She needed to go take a   
walk or something. She just could not stay in   
the same room with this handsome man without   
thinking wicked thoughts.   
She stood up and was about to reach for   
the papers she had given to Mamoru, when she   
saw that he hadn't signed them.   
"How about we adjourn this meeting for   
today? Take the papers home with you and bring   
them back tomorrow, 7 a.m sharp for your first   
shoot."   
She stood up thinking Mamoru would do the   
same but he just sat there, his attention   
somewhere else. She could've sworn she saw a   
muscle tick in his cheek. But, she was probably   
seeing things.   
"Chiba-san?"   
She heard him mumble a death threat of   
some sort and her eyes widened when he suddenly   
met her gaze and smiled. That smile would   
definitely have their TV audience melting, she   
thought. Why, she could feel her own legs   
becoming wobbly.   
"Gomen. I was just thinking about   
something else. You said seven? I'll be there."   
Usagi smiled in relief. Things were finally   
beginning to look up. She walked around the   
desk, towards him. "That's great!" She stood in   
front of him as he got up. "And, um, thank you   
for the lunch and for saving me from what would   
have been an embarrassing fall."   
Mamoru straightened and picked up the   
green jacket that lay over the back of the   
chair. "It was of no problem Tsukino-san." He   
pulled the jacket on and in the process of   
putting his hand into the right sleeve,   
accidentally hit the papers Usagi had given   
him.   
They all fell to the ground and   
automatically, the two both bent down to pick   
up the fallen papers. Just when Mamoru had   
gotten all of the papers, *SNAP* went the high   
heel of Usagi's shoe as it broke away fromthe   
sole.   
Witnesses would later say that a husky   
little boy about two years of age, with golden   
curls was seen running in the opposite   
direction of Tsukino Usagi's office. Oh well.   
"Eeps!" Usagi shrieked lightly as she   
grabbed onto Mamoru arms, but she had already   
lost her balance and she fell backwards onto   
her behind, her back up against the desk.   
Mamoru followed close behind as Usagi was   
still latched onto him and he found himself   
bracing himself with his arms from totally   
falling on top of her. He would later realize   
that he had heard a small, childish giggle from   
somewhere in the room.   
"Oh... God..." Usagi breathed. Stupid,   
cheap shoes!  
She closed her eyes and opened them in a   
second later. He was so close to her, she could   
practically feel him breathing on her. Not that   
she minded one bit but-   
The door to her office opened and   
Tsukushi, her secretary came in once again.   
"Usagi-san, Touru-kun stopped by wanting   
to speak to you but I told him you were busy in   
a meeting. Also, the post man delivered a box   
of something or the other..." The girl   
continued to talk as she walked towards the   
desk. She either had not noticed the   
compromising position of Usagi and Mamoru   
or she was doing a very good job of ignoring   
them.   
The girl placed Usagi's mail on the desk   
and then began walking back out, her head bent   
as she flipped through the pages of an   
appointment book. "By the way, you have a   
meeting tomorrow after the shoot with a Mr.   
Thompson from New York. Then you have a   
business lunch with Onishi-kun, member of the   
public relations committee." She opened the   
door and just before closing it, said, "Oh, and   
prices at the Grand Plaza hotel, which is   
across the street, range from 2,500 yen to   
4,000 yen for a one night stand, erm...stay."   
The door closed and Usagi knew could feel   
the tell tale red creeping up her face. She had   
to remember to give Tsukushi a hefty pay raise.   
But first, Usagi would kill her for that last   
comment.   
The office fell into the same still   
silence it had before but this time Mamoru felt   
the poking of a certain thing called deja vu.   
He looked down at Usagi who had her eyes   
tightly shut. She looked as though she was   
waiting to receive a blow of some sort and he   
couldn't blame her. If it had been anyone   
else... his own sense of being filled with   
dread at the thought.   
He quickly pushed away from her before the   
thought became reality. He stood up and offered   
his hand to Usagi but she refused it and   
instead, dropped her head into her hands.   
"Why me? Why me?" she began repeating the   
two words in a sorrowful tone and he took a   
step back, feeling very awkward.   
"So I'll see you tomorrow at seven,   
Tsukino-san. Ja!" He picked up the papers from   
the floor and left the room in quick strides,   
closing the door quietly behind him.   
Usagi still sat with her back against the   
desk, her knees raised upwards. She stopped her   
moaning and looked at the now closed door.   
"He's so hot!" she wailed to herself. "I'm   
going to shoot Motoki!"   
  
Mamoru arrived at the studio bright and   
early at seven sharp. Actually he had been   
sitting in his car for about fifteen minutes   
outside of the building, debating whether or   
not this was a good idea.   
It probably wasn't, he concluded, but he   
had to look at the positives. The money he so   
badly needed would finally be rolling in. He   
would also get to work with a slightly   
eccentric, but very beautiful woman. And what   
better way to get her attention, than to show   
off his body? If the sighs he heard at the   
Arcade meant anything, he had a very nice body   
so surely Usagi would notice it.   
Ending his thoughts there, he had gotten   
out of his car, taken a deep breath (nearly   
gagged when a bus rolled past, spewing its   
fumes in his face) and then walked to the   
studio.   
And now here he was, feeling very   
uncertain as to what to do next. People were   
running around everywhere, hardly taking notice   
of him.   
"Chiba-san, over here!" He turned to see   
his 'agent' waving him over. She was dressed in   
business attire just like yesterday but oh...   
this attire made her look so...attractive. She   
was wearing a white, short-sleeved silk blouse   
that was tucked in a cream colored skirt that   
reached her thighs. A matching cream colored   
coat was slung over her arm, and her long hair   
was tied in a high ponytail.   
He reached her side and she smiled   
brightly at him. A little too brightly, he   
noticed. It was as though she were forcing   
herself to smile.  
"Ohayo," he said.   
"Ohayo. Are you all ready?" At his nod   
she continued. "Good, because the costume   
designer has brought in the cloth--ing you'll   
be wearing."   
He nodded again and took the garment   
bag she handed him. She cleared her throat and   
when she spoke again, she refused to meet his   
eyes.   
"Ano... I've checked the costume over   
and it," she cleared her throat and a healthy   
blush covered her cheeks, "it seems just fine,   
so there's the dressing room, now go change."   
She rushed the last sentence and began   
pushing him in the direction of where he   
would change.   
"What's the rush?" he asked questioningly.   
She seemed a bit out of it this morning. Well,   
he had said she was a bit eccentric.   
"There's no rush at all! Don't you want to   
get this over with? I'm sure you do, so there's   
the dressing room, now shoo!"   
He did as he was told and threw a confused   
glance over his shoulder as he walked away.   
Usagi just smiled (a little too brightly again)   
and then turned around to speak to someone.   
He shrugged and went into the dressing room,   
finally feeling the excitement of completing   
this project.   
  
Fifteen minutes later and there was no   
sign of Mamoru. When the first ten minutes had   
passed, Usagi had felt a bit uneasy. Then after   
another five minutes, her palms had become   
sweaty. Now it would be twenty minutes and she   
was digging a trench in the ground with her   
pacing.   
"Tsukino-san, we need to get this project   
off the ground." Usagi looked up to see the   
director a few feet away. "I know," she   
replied. "I'll just go check on Chiba-san, he   
probably got lost or something."   
She laughed nervously but the director   
didn't even smile.   
She strode away, mumbling under her   
breath. "He better have gotten lost, that or he   
better have hit his head on a wall and lost   
consciousness."   
She reached the dressing room and rapped   
on the door. "Chiba-san are you in there? Are   
you alright?"   
There was a moment of silence before she   
heard the sound of footsteps approaching the   
door. She took a step back when the door was   
opened a crack.   
"I am not doing this," she heard before   
the door was closed in her face.   
She stared at the wood incredulously before   
blinking. She knocked on the door again.   
"Chiba-san? What are you talking about?   
Can I at least come inside?" She heard him   
grumble a 'yes' and opened the door slowly,   
peering inside. He stood in the middle of the   
room, dressed in a black dressing gown, his   
back turned to her.   
She knew now why he was acting like this;   
had expected it all along. She sighed heavily.   
"Chiba-san, please, you made a deal, you signed   
the contract so now you are obligated to go   
through with the shoot."   
"Not wearing this!" He whirled around,   
holding the gown open. Usagi's eyes widened   
and her mouth fell open. The outfit was to be   
worn in such a way that it looked like the   
person was wearing a Roman toga, a very *short*   
toga. A toga that hid nothing from one's   
imagination.   
Insert Mamoru into it and well... forget   
imagination, think fantasies.   
Usagi's cheeks flamed a bright red and she   
struggled to maintain some sort of calm and   
indifferent expression. Squeaking when she had   
first seen his body had not helped but she   
would strive to appear composed.   
"Chiba-san, it doesn't look... that bad."   
"It doesn't look- it's downright shameful!   
I would cause a ninety year old woman to   
drool!"   
"Don't sound so sure of yourself," Usagi   
snapped back.   
"Hey! What was that supposed to mean?" he   
demanded.   
"Nothing. Now come on, the director is   
getting impatient and we're already behind   
schedule."   
"I am not going out like this. Look at me!   
If the wind should blow, the commercial would   
immediately become X-rated."   
"There is no wind in the studio, Chiba-  
san."   
"Still..."   
The hesitation on Mamoru's face worried   
Usagi. It worried her very much. Her job   
depended on these things and she couldn't risk   
a shy and modest man to ruin her career.   
"Chiba-san, please," Mamoru's eyebrow went   
up at the change of tone in Usagi's voice. From   
commanding to playing nice?   
"Please do the shoot, it's not so bad. And   
I need you to do this, I'm desperate! You're my   
last hope, only you can decide whether or not I   
continue working for this company."   
Her hands were clasped together, her eyes   
were big and were those tears? Her lips were   
pouty and well, he was taken. Let the world see   
his body then. If it would help Usagi, so be   
it.   
"Alright," he sighed. "Lead the way."   
Immediately, Usagi lost her puppy demeanor. She   
straightened, and ran a hand down her skirt.   
"Great, now come on, we're half an hour late."   
She strode out and Mamoru could only stare   
after her. How did she do that? But then a grin   
formed on his features. He liked it.   
  
"Okay Mamoru, now smile. No, no, you can   
smile better than that. You're a sexy man,   
smile like one! You know the woman want you,   
let them know you know."   
Usagi hid her face in her papers. The   
photographer was absolutely outrageous! She was   
also her best friend, Aino Minako and the poses   
she was putting Mamoru in really would have   
made a ninety year old woman drool. Not only   
was he dressed so scandalously, but at some   
times he was made to wear a set of wings. At   
other times, he was made to look like he was   
aiming at something with a bow and arrow. She   
looked around to see that she wasn't the only   
one affected. All the women who were working   
had stopped by to watch the shooting.   
For some reason, she had the biggest urge   
to wrap Mamoru in a comforter and hide him from   
their lecherous eyes. But no, Mamoru was not   
hers.   
"You're pure model material, Mamoru baby.   
Now we're going to try a different pose. Lee,   
set up the set!"   
The crowd broke up and Usagi fanned   
herself a bit before setting her sights on   
Mamoru. He was now walking towards her, a   
glass of cold water in his hand. He had   
discarded the wings and the bow and arrow but   
he had not lost that sexy smile. Oh and how she   
would love to kiss that smile right off his   
lips...   
"Calm down, Usagi," she muttered to   
herself. Busying herself with her papers, she   
pretended not to notice Mamoru until the last   
minute when he stood right next to her.   
"Oh, Chiba-san, didn't notice you there.   
Is everything alright so far?" Mamoru looked   
down at the blond head of hair. He frowned   
slightly when he realized she didn't seem to be   
affected by his near bareness.   
Every other woman had had her eyes glued   
to him but he had hoped that maybe Usagi would   
have spared him a glance also. Not that he   
cared or anything, no of course it was nothing   
like that.   
But you know how it works. A male's ego is   
not fully satisfied until he knows he's been   
noticed by *every* girl in the room. And well,   
apparently Mamoru had convinced himself that   
that was the only reason he had wanted Usagi to   
take interest in the shoot, if only to satisfy   
his sorely depleted ego (let us forget the   
sighing girls of Motoki's arcade, shall we?).   
"Everything is fine," he replied   
nonchalantly. "How about you?"   
"Oh, it's going good for me too. Your   
commercial shoot is tomorrow, same time. Remind   
me to give you the script, ne?" Mamoru nodded   
and opened his mouth to say something else,   
when Minako interrupted the two.   
"Mamoru baby, you're back on. These   
next pics will be for the full page layouts.   
Get your wings on and grab some arrows." He   
looked at Usagi one more time before walking   
towards the area where they had taken the first   
set of pictures. He picked up the bow and   
arrows and looked them over carefully. They   
looked very... authentic. Something Cupid   
himself would have been proud of. He shrugged   
and walked towards the new set. He passed Usagi   
and Minako and as he passed the two he felt a   
light slap on his behind. He started and   
whirled around to stare at the two women who   
were still talking and looking over a piece of   
paper. They both looked up at the same time   
and when they saw him standing with a stupefied   
look on his face, smiled.   
"Is something wrong Chiba-san?" Usagi   
asked. He did not reply, still shocked to his   
toes.   
"Hey, Cupid, hurry up and get over there,   
we don't have any time for dallying," Minako   
called out.   
Mamoru shook his head and looked over the   
two. One of them had slapped his butt, there   
was no denying it! He looked at Minako and then   
at Usagi, narrowing his eyes. He could see the   
possibility of Minako doing such a thing but   
Usagi wouldn't have been able to keep the   
serious face she had on now. He must have been   
losing his mind.   
He reached the set and let the makeup   
artists do their thing. They had to rub a light   
layer of oil over his body that would give his   
skin a light sheen. All the more to make it   
realistic, Minako had said. He held up his arms   
as someone had directed and looked over at   
Minako and Usagi who were now arguing over   
something. He could only imagine their subject.   
  
***   
  
"Hand over the money Usagi, you didn't   
follow through properly."   
"I did too!"  
"No, you didn't. The dare was that you   
slap his hiney and then whisper 'go for it   
lover boy'. But you didn't do the second half,   
so you owe me."   
"I couldn't whisper that! He would have   
known it was me. Fine, I'll give you half the   
money, okay?"   
"Fine.   
  
*^*End*^*   
Are we getting too hentai-ish? *Sees Mizu nod   
vigorously* Naaah, not us!  



	5. Chapter 5

Mizu's AN's: Woo hoo! Got another chapter   
done! Soo, it's a bit late ::dodges glares::   
But I'm working on some other shtuff! Really!   
::does a mizu jig:: ^^;;   
  
Patch's AN's:  
  
Chapter 5: Of Togas and Fans...  
  
Disclaimer: You know the deal, no own Mamo-  
chan, no own Usagi. *But* we do have exclusive   
rights to the oil used on his body and the toga   
he wore *Mizu & Patch grin happily*  
  
***  
Never in her twenty-four years of   
experiencing agency life did Usagi feel this   
skittish. Sure, she'd seen many men in a   
short, skimpy pieces of translucent—  
err...togas, or some sort of apparatus that was   
*supposed* to hide those strategic parts, but   
she never fell head over heels over a   
particular model or actor. Was that it? Was   
she falling in love?   
Love was never a primary concern in her   
busy life; sensing that her personal life would   
only interfere in more important matters. If   
she wanted to pursue a personal life, it would   
only prove to be a distraction.  
Then again, Mamoru was a distraction...  
Mamoru in a toga was an even *bigger*   
distraction...  
Some things about Mamoru were—irk. Never   
mind. This needs to be censored for younger   
audiences anyway.  
"It's pure physical attraction," she   
compromised with that little voice in her head   
that held her heart in the wellspring it called   
its soul. It sighed in dissatisfaction and   
obvious disappointment.  
"I can get over this," she breathed in   
deeply, feeling a renewed vigor to take control   
of her chaotic life. "I can do this, I can—"  
...and that was when Chiba Mamoru walked   
right onto the production set, toga and all,   
all...*that*. She sighed absentmindedly,   
shaking her head of the interesting thoughts   
that came to mind. He'd obviously got the hang   
of the toga, this being one of the last times   
he'd need to show up for the commercial shoot.   
However, she could still spot him flinch ever-  
so-slightly when a woman would give him a   
flirtatious smile. She fixed her lips on the   
edge of her coffee cup, inhaling the liquid as   
if it were her life's only sustenance. Where   
was that comforter, anyway?   
She was too occupied with her private   
thoughts to notice him stand over her shoulder.   
"Morning," he said casually, stuffing his   
hands into imaginary pockets, then promptly   
realizing that there *were* none. In fact,   
there wouldn't be enough space to sew pockets   
on the outfit.   
She sputtered in her coffee in response,   
as Mamoru instinctively pat her back to help   
relieve the stress. A concerned look appeared   
in his eyes that went by unnoticed by Usagi,   
who felt like she was hacking up a hairball.   
The smell of aromatherapy-scents fogged   
her senses, as Mamoru bent down worriedly.   
"All you all right?" He peered at her level,   
grasping her shoulder, still concerned for her   
welfare.  
She shook her head, blanching at the   
position he was in. "Dear lord, Mamoru! Stand   
up, will you?" She immediately shut her mouth,   
wishing that she had said nothing in the first   
place.   
Mamoru look perplexed. He looked cute   
when he was perplexed. Usagi refrained herself   
from sighing audibly, but he still caught the   
strange, slight, mewing sound that parted from   
her petal-soft lips. He bent down lower to   
Usagi's arched form. Immediately, soft giggles   
and loud feminine whoops came from behind him.  
"Flash that butt, pretty boy!"   
"You can bend down for me, *anytime*!"  
Wait a minute...the last one sounded   
awfully like Minako...Usagi groaned, hiding   
herself behind a stack of brown folders.   
Mamoru paled, and abruptly stood stock   
still, straight as a soldier. Egads, he'd have   
to be careful when he bent down...   
"What's the big idea?" Minako, director   
and photographer supreme, snapped. Her voice   
rang throughout the set, despite the clutter   
blocking the sound waves from dispersing   
throughout the room. Mamoru, on the other   
hand, smelled fresh as a...daisy? Nope.   
*Definitely* not as innocent as daisies. That   
was it! That incense she was smelling *was*   
him! She preened proudly, before slapping   
herself mentally upside over the head. Eeesh,   
what *was* with these raging hormones today?   
They were rebelling, she noted sourly.   
Ever since she'd decided to get into the habit   
of paying attention to her studies instead of   
the opposite sex, she'd managed to turn them   
off. Now, they were returning—with a lusty   
vengeance.   
Mamoru was placed effectively on a white-  
sanded platform, one bronze-sandaled foot   
placed on a random, fake marble column that   
jutted casually from the sand. He braced his   
head on his palm, the elbow resting on the   
slippery knee to complete his pondering stance.   
At a certain angle, you could almost spot—ACK!  
Usagi envisioned herself five minutes   
later on her suave cell phone... "Hello? I'd   
like to make an appointment for the   
psychiatrist..." She pictured herself saying,   
thoughts unconsciously blurring into a single   
image, Mamoru. He was still in that   
translucent toga, much to her dismay. Or   
rather, there were people around, other than   
her, to gawk at him.   
I wonder exactly *what* angle...Usagi   
grinned lazily, before knocking herself back   
into the side of sanity once more.   
"Come on!" She heard Minako shout,   
taking one of her many purposeful stances. "I   
didn't have you rubbed with passion   
aromatherapy oils for nothing! It's supposed   
to get you in the mood! Right now, you're   
showing as much emotion as a turnip would!   
Chiba, what *is* wrong with you today?" Minako   
sighed. It was the last day, and she was   
behind schedule—as usual. However, being   
"fashionably late" in this case was simply not   
acceptable.   
"So she *DID* get him rubbed down until   
he smelled like a candle!" Usagi gaped,   
surprised. Promptly after, she began to crack   
her knuckles. Who the hell *touched* him?!   
She thought, already plotting revenge for the   
imaginary figure. A loud crack came from her   
knuckles.   
"Ouch!" She began to nurse the poor   
knuckle. What possessed her to do *that*? She   
knew she had delicate joints there! The   
previous vision of calling the psychiatrist   
came to mind once more as she shooed it away   
irritably.   
  
Mamoru stole a glance at Usagi, who   
seemed to be irritated about something...  
Funny, there was no one around, he   
frowned, but was immediately snapped back into   
the reality he knew as the commercial set.   
Digging his feet into the artificially bleached   
white sand, he allowed his glance to linger   
more on the golden figure staring critically at   
the back of her hand.   
"Okay people, bring out the fans!"   
Minako commanded, looking very business-like.   
"Fans?" Mamoru gulped audibly, already   
feeling the skirt of his toga stir. Another   
stolen glance at Usagi showed her sitting bolt   
upright, looking appalled at her friend.   
Minako proceeded to walk closer to the   
sandy area, propping up herself on a hollow   
column.  
"Hmm, place one here, here and here," she   
pointed to three different places, all in   
separate, extreme sides of the set. However,   
the set, as Mamoru finally noticed, wasn't all   
that big, which would mean there would be less   
distance for the breeze to travel...  
Kami-sama help him...  
Minako, on the other hand, looked about   
proudly, before frowning at the fan placed not-  
nearly-close enough to her cupid specimen. She   
pushed it to what she assumed to be the   
"perfect" angle before nodding satisfactorily.   
"Uhh..." Mamoru uttered, looking   
mightily afraid.   
"What is it, Chiba-san?" Minako looked   
up skeptically.   
"Don't you think those fans might be a   
little...err...revealing?" He stuttered,   
suddenly afraid for his modesty. Goodbye,   
humble pie...  
Minako grinned, shaking her head. "Don't   
be silly, Chiba-san. I don't intend to reveal   
anything...much." She grinned flirtatiously.   
She swiveled and returned to her spot by the   
cameras, completely unaware of the wild   
gestures that Mamoru was issuing.   
"You owe me big time, Usagi-chan," she   
murmured triumphantly, skipping once   
childishly, before settling herself in the   
director's seat. She peeked at Usagi, who was   
looking a healthy shade of tomato red.   
"Lights! Camera! Action!" Director   
Minako declared, motioning for the fans to turn   
on. "Full speed ahead!" She added in, before   
the cameras began to record the events before   
them.  
And those events were interesting,   
indeed...   
Usagi's eyes flew wide open, as did all   
the other pairs of eyes that were previously   
gawking at Mamoru's marble-Greek physique. Her   
mouth parted slightly as she wished more so   
than before for that comforter.   
Mamoru, on the other hand, stood   
uncomfortably on the set. Kami-sama, was the   
cloth on his behind,...flapping? He blanched,   
trying to turn his backside toward the   
background of the set, where it would be   
concealed from most of the...audience? He   
gulped again, pressing his parched lips tighter   
in a thin line. His storm-blue eyes hardened   
in embarrassment as he fought to keep a blush   
from forming on his angular cheekbones.   
A coffee cup smashing on the floor broke   
the silence beyond the artificial windy   
whispers. However, it wasn't that particular   
intrusion of silence that brought Minako from   
her analytical study of the commercial.   
"CUT!" She commanded, taking full   
advantage of her authority on the set. She   
stalked toward Mamoru, who had effectively   
inched toward the back wall of the set without   
notice. Hopefully, this might save whatever   
dignity he had left.   
"Chiba-san," she sighed dejectedly,   
shaking her head dramatically in   
disappointment. Her hands flew into the air,   
as if preaching him about the evils of vanity.   
Yeah, sure...  
"What am I going to do to you? It's the   
last day, and you decide to chicken out?" She   
sighed extravagantly once again, looking as if   
she was a renaissance play actor. She shot him   
a soft, but firm look, a strictly business   
look.   
"Have you ever heard about the Olympics   
in ancient Greece?" She asked, bracing an arm   
on a column, as if by habit.   
Mamoru nodded silently in reply. He was   
still ruffled by the events that had elapsed   
over the last few minutes to speak.   
"Well, they used to rub oil over their   
body."  
Mamoru nodded mutely again. He'd already   
been through that. He was lucky that it didn't   
leave a rash on his skin. In fact, the oil had   
been quite healthy for his skin. Normally, he   
wouldn't have cared less, but Minako had   
claimed that it was for "camera effects".  
"They also went naked," she continued,   
disregarding any responses Mamoru might have   
had.  
Mamoru, on the other hand, stared,   
frozen. His eyes, fixed on her, as a horrified   
expression settled on his handsome features.   
"You're not telling me..." He croaked.   
Minako stared at him blankly. It wasn't   
long before his implied message dawned upon   
her. She was barely restraining herself from   
hitting him upside over the head. "No, you   
hentai! This is for chocolates! I don't want   
anything that requires heavy censorship!"   
Heavy censorship? Posh...   
"Minimal, maybe, but not a full blown,   
heavy duty—argh!" She shook her head in   
disbelief, strands of hair escaping from their   
ribbon bonds behind.   
Wait...did she say minimal? The paling   
ensued once again...A common expression that   
appeared on Mamoru's face lately. What was   
minimal censorship? Only allowing the cloth to   
ride so far up his—once again, we censor.   
"Do we *have* to work with the fans?" He   
pleaded, hoping his superior would be merciful.   
He looked at her adorably, but this woman had   
emotions of steel.   
Oh well, it seemed too high a demand on   
his behalf anyway...  
"Yes," she nodded curtly, stalking back   
to the director's seat for the umpteenth time   
that day. However, she wasn't tired. Minako   
was *full* of energy, Mamoru smiled sourly.   
Once again, the fans were turned on, and   
he received his cue to stand purposefully on a   
fake, plaster pedestal. As much as he tried   
not to, he couldn't help but cringe inward   
slightly. He absolutely refused to bend down   
too far either!   
"Chiba-san! Pose properly for us! We   
don't want to be here all day! Let that toga   
*conform* to your body!" He saw Minako nod   
briskly, her eyes lingering on the item on the   
plate before waving a hand casually at a   
passerby who offered her a cinnamon bun. "If   
we could, we would've PAINTED the toga on you!"   
She shouted one last time, before falling   
victim to the enticing smell of the bun.   
Mamoru winced, raking a hand through his   
coal-black hair. Even though it was the last   
day, it was going to be a *long* day indeed...  
  
***  
  
"Come on, car!" Usagi huffed, banging a   
fist on the hood of her vehicle. She stared at   
the care pointedly. It didn't respond.   
All she wanted to do was go home and take   
a deep, long, COLD shower. After the day's   
events with the fans and the oil, her mind felt   
too foggy for her to think straight. She'd   
spent the entire day gripping on the table   
before her, attempting to finish up some loose   
end paperwork that she'd brought with her.   
Naturally, nothing was completed during the   
course of that day. In fact, she was far too   
stunned with Minako's handiwork to react, let   
alone to work.   
"Stupid car!" She glared her trademarked   
glare at the car, resisting the urge from   
kicking a tire. No, she'd seen too many   
cartoons that did that, and every time, their   
big toes would be swelling up like a cherry   
tomato.   
She bent down to the car's level,   
plastering on the sweetest face she could   
muster at the moment. "Car," she said   
charmingly, as if lulling a toddler to go to   
bed. "Start, won't you?" She turned the key   
in the ignition, fully expecting the car to   
comply.   
It didn't budge. In fact, the engines   
gave a hoarse, mechanically painful croak   
before they fell into a lapse of silence once   
again.   
Usagi frowned. Dejectedly, she sat   
herself on the edge of the driver's seat, legs   
dangling out from the car. The open door   
allowed a refreshing breeze to brush past,   
ruffling the small hairs around her face to   
stir slightly.  
"Ja ne, Usagi-chan!" Minako raced past,   
completely oblivious of the situation her best   
friend was in. She was already late. Somehow,   
the thought of being fashionably late was the   
best of suggestions at the moment.  
Usagi waved, sighing heavily.   
"Car trouble?" Mamoru grinned, watching   
Usagi jump up in surprise, hitting her head   
upon the low ceiling of her car without delay.   
She winced in reaction.   
"Are you all right?" Mamoru asked,   
brushing the fair hairs from her head to survey   
the damage. He couldn't see anything beyond   
the blond mass. His fingers were tangled in   
her hair as he reveled in the softness.   
Hard on the outside, soft within, he   
smiled gently, reluctantly disentangling his   
fingers from the silken strands. His hand went   
to the back of her head instead. He wasn't   
quite done with those strands yet...  
"Want a drive home?" He offered, holding   
out a hand as if to receive a lady from a   
carriage. He watched as a light dawned upon   
her face, making it positively angelic.   
Gingerly, she reached for the proffered   
hand, slowly hoisting herself from the seat to   
avoid bumping her head again. As if one brain   
jostle wasn't enough, she smiled inwardly to   
herself.   
"Thanks," she murmured, eyes glued to his   
smile...the gentlest smile she'd ever seen...   
His gaze seemed to glaze over hers, as she   
suddenly felt weak in her knees. The voice   
within shouted gleefully, "It's love! It's   
love! I told you so!" A hint of smugness was   
buried in the joyful proclamations.   
Apparently, it did have an ego of it's own.   
He led her to the car silently, stealing   
that occasional glance at the top of her blond   
head. Once she was safely buckled up, and away   
from the harm of the car ceiling, he started   
the ignition, veering off onto the main road.   
Taking a quick glance at his rear-view   
mirror as he often did, he spotted Minako by a   
car, seemingly speaking to no one in   
particular. She looked downwards.   
Probably has gum on her shoe...Mamoru   
shrugged, and focused his attention on the road   
instead. For now, he was more than content to   
have Usagi sitting beside him.   
  
***  
  
"I'm working on it," Minako grinned at a   
pudgy little character, standing, hidden behind   
a massive red car. "Don't worry, everything's   
in control! After all, you assigned me to do   
it," Minako winked, as merry giggling ensued.   
  
***  
  
Done! BWAHAHAHA!!! ::coughs:: yes, it's a bit   
revealing, I know. Oh well. ::points to   
patch:: she made me do it! ;)  
  
Questions, flames, comments?   
Em to:  
  
Patchkhan1@hotmail.com or  
Tokiya_ensui@yahoo.com  
  
March 5/01  
  



	6. Chapter 6

patch's AN's: oysh, so umm, yes, the next chapter is out....  
FINALLY! ^^;; *huggles mizu-momma* But look, now  
you guys get to beat my wonderful momma over here to  
get the next part out!  
  
mizy's AN's: woo hoo! kana got another chapter out! ::does  
a mizu jig:: and lookie! part of a plot is finished! isn't kana  
*wonderful*? (hai, kana, I'm trying to embarrass you. ^_~  
what are momma/poppa/gurus for?)  
  
Disclaimer: Sailor Moon Belongs to Naoko Takeuchi. We  
claim no ownership to it. (figured that we could stand  
something normal, b/c the disclaimer's going to be the most  
*sane* phrase in this entire chapter ^_~)  
  
  
  
Cupid's Wayward Arrow  
Chapter 6: Of Ferocious Kitties & Airbrushed Muscles  
Authors: Mizu & Patch  
  
  
"Wow… this is a *really* nice place, you've got here."  
"Thanks, I decorated it myself. Have a seat. Do you  
want anything to drink?"  
"Just some cold water, thanks."  
Usagi left Mamoru in the living room and walked to  
her kitchen. When she was sure he couldn't see her, she slumped  
against the fridge and took in a deep breath before exhaling  
slowly. She passed a hand through her hair, which had become  
loose from the car ride over. Who would have thought Mamoru  
to have a beautiful, red convertible? With Mamoru speeding  
down the highway, she had had the biggest urge to sit up on the  
headrest of her seat and do one of those wild dances… just for  
him.  
You little hentai, her mind chided. She shook her  
head roughly and headed for the cabinet that contained her  
prized Lennox fine crystal glass set. No one needed to know  
that she had found the set at a garage sale near her parents'  
houses. It had been a steal, a bargain she had been proud of.  
And the set was a darn good looker too. It was something that  
could easily be found on the shelf of a pricey department store.  
"Hey Usagi, need help in here?"  
*CRASH*  
And now she was short one glass. She stared at  
the broken shards dumbly, her mind woefully lamenting her  
clumsiness. Well hell.  
"Oy, Usagi, be careful!"  
She saw him pick up the larger pieces and turned to  
him to ask him a question. "When did you start calling me by my  
first name?"  
"Since you began staring at a broken in glass  
without doing anything about it," he replied tactfully. He threw  
the pieces in the trashcan and turned back to her. "Are you  
planning on standing there or will you give me the drink I asked  
for?" His face broke into a teasing grin and her eyes widened  
slightly. If he continued to smile like that she would willingly  
stand there all day.  
ACK! Thinking like this was not good for her. She  
smiled sheepishly at him. "Gomen, it's just that that glass was  
part of my favorite set. I'm still in shock, you know?"  
His expression turned sympathetic. "I'm sorry. It's  
eally funny though. My aunt has a set just like yours and she  
was selling them at a garage sale a while back. Want me to  
check and see if no one bought them? She might still have the  
set."  
Usagi blanched. Coincidence? She didn't want to  
dwell on that one. "That's… okay," she croaked out. "You  
wanted a glass of water, ne?" She reached for a glass, a  
plastic one, lest there were any more 'accidents' waiting for  
her in the future. She filled it with ice-cold water from the  
fridge and handed it to him. "Do you want anything to eat?"  
He shook his head and she watched in silence as  
he drank. Not a very good idea, for reasons which could go  
unexplained. Her face was turning red again, she could feel it!  
Looking away, she tried to find something to occupy herself  
with.  
"So did the shoot go well in your opinion?"  
At his voice, Usagi turned back to him so fast, she  
heard her neck crack. She winced and rubbed the area. She  
hated cracking any parts of her body so why today, of all  
days, were her bones rebelling against her?  
"I thought it went well," she answered, "but it's up  
to the Powers that Be to give the final word."  
"Maybe they'll be in such awe of my good looks  
that they'll let the commercial air," he said, handing the glass to  
her.  
She dropped the glass.  
They both watched it bounce to the floor and spin  
in a circle a few times before coming to a stop. The fact that it  
wasn't one of her prized glasses had her happy beyond  
comparison. The fact that she had actually dropped another  
glass in Mamoru's presence had her mentally weeping in  
embarrassment.  
"Are you nervous?"  
She lifted her head to meet his gaze and nodded  
vigorously, her blond head bobbing up and down. "I always  
get nervous before having to present my work before the  
board." Yes, that was it. She was not looking forward to  
meeting with the high authority and it was giving her a bad  
case of nerves. A most logical explanation.  
"And here I thought it was my attractive presence."  
She nearly fainted. "Don't let your ego get the  
better of you," she retorted quickly. "Your head might burst."  
He laughed and turned to walk back into the  
living room. "So do you live here by yourself?"  
She raised her eyebrow at that question. "Just me  
and my cat, who's probably around here somewhere."  
"My cat and I."  
Usagi rolled her eyes in response. "Whatever.  
What about you? Pets? Family? Girlfriends?" She kicked  
herself hard for that last one. As if it were any of her business.  
Oh but it is, it is, an evil voice in her mind cackled.  
He turned his head and gave her a small smile.  
"I'm afraid I have to say no to all three."  
She was surprised to say the least. Mamoru not  
be in a relationship? Well, after the airing of that commercial  
on public television, he wouldn't have to worry about that  
problem. Naturally, you'll be first in line, that same evil  
voice gleefully told her.  
They sat on the sofa and discussed little things  
about their lives. As they were talking about how surprising  
it was that they both knew Motoki, a little mewl was heard.  
The talking stopped and both turned to see Usagi's cat  
behind Mamoru, licking her paw daintily, her tail curled  
around her.  
"Luna graces us with an appearance," Usagi said  
dryly.  
"Cute name," Mamoru replied, getting up to pet  
the cat. Usagi saw him and his intentions and jumped off the  
couch.  
"Mamoru, no! She's very-" her words died in  
her throat when Luna suddenly backed up, her tail bushed up  
and twitching violently. Her ears pulled back, she shook her  
little rump, a sign that she was going to pounce. Usagi knew  
that when Luna pounced, she pounced with all claws bared  
and poor Mamoru was the target. She couldn't have her star  
with a scratched up face so she did what she thought was  
best.  
She leapt towards him at the same time Luna  
sprang forward. Luckily, Usagi reached the startled Mamoru  
first and they crashed to the carpeted floor. And where did  
Luna go? She went flying over the couple, over the coffee  
table and landed on all four paws on the other side. She then  
frizzed down, turned her tail up and walked away as though  
nothing had ever happened.  
Something had most definitely happened for the  
couple on the floor however. Mamoru lay stunned on the  
plush carpet, not comprehending what had just happened.  
Usagi on the other hand knew very well what had happened,  
she was just dying of mortification at the moment. It was  
kind of hard not to miss the fact that she was currently on  
top of her client in a very, very compromising position.  
"What… just… happened?" Mamoru's voice  
reached her ears and she shut her eyes for a moment,  
knowing what she was going to say would sound so very…  
lame.  
"I tried to warn you that Luna is quite the anti-  
social feline. One of those special breeds, as the pet store  
owner told me. I love the cat dearly despite that flaw but  
I couldn't have you go in tomorrow to the meeting with  
red scratches all over your face."  
"So you did the equivalent of saving my life?"  
She nodded against his chest and then turned  
her gaze upwards slowly. She met those cobalt-blue eyes  
of his and found herself smiling weakly. "I'm really sorry."  
"Don't be," he answered, sitting up. Realized  
the awkward position that move put her in, Usagi ducked  
her head and tried to get off of Mamoru. However his  
hands clamped around her waist and she was forced to  
look at him.  
Their faces were so close to each other and  
that observation had her breath quickening. Fire alarms,  
the kind you could hear miles away, were going off in her  
head but she didn't pay any attention to them. What she  
was paying attention to though, was the way Mamoru's  
head was slowly bending towards hers. His lips were  
perilously close and if she had the guts to make the effort,  
she could most certainly capture them in a long awaited  
kiss.  
Long awaited?  
And at that moment, a tiny mewl interrupted  
them once more.  
"Oh Kami…"  
Usagi heard Mamoru mutter that much and  
then she didn't know what happened next because in the  
next moment she was sitting on the floor on her knees  
and Mamoru had placed himself 20 feet away from her.  
She hadn't thought he could move that fast.  
"I'll see you at the board meeting, Usagi. Ja!"  
And with the slam of the door he was gone,  
Usagi still sitting on the floor. Luna meowed again and  
hopped onto Usagi. She petted the cat absent-mindedly,  
still going over what might have happened moments  
before. Would she have allowed Mamoru to kiss her?  
An agent involved with her client? Oh, the scandal that  
would erupt. She could just see the headlines, "Cupid  
Boy & Agent in Steamy Affair; Body Oil Believed to  
be Cause."  
She shook her head and got up, carrying  
Luna with her. "I'm in big trouble, Luna. Big trouble."  
  
"Everyone, quiet! It's coming up!"  
Everyone in the studio gathered around the  
large television set, eagerly awaiting the commercial  
they had all worked so hard on. Minako, Mamoru and  
Usagi were there up front, each anticipating the one-  
minute show with a different set of emotions. All three  
had smiles on their faces, but if one looked closely,  
one could see the varying levels of… happiness.  
Usagi's smile was strained. It was a now  
or never situation. The board had given the a-okay on  
the airing of the commercial and this was to show those  
big shots on the top floor of the office building that she  
was worth her mettle. They would know that Tsukino  
Usagi had an eye for picking out future stars. She had  
the knack for picking out the good ones, oh yes she  
did. The good, handsome and sexy ones…  
*THWACK*  
"Itai!" Usagi rubbed the side of her head and  
glared at her best friend. Minako smiled back teasingly  
and nudged the other woman in the ribs.  
"You're drooling, babe."  
Usagi unconsciously wiped at the side of her  
mouth and stared straight ahead, focusing her mind on  
innocent and clean thoughts. Minako looked at her  
again and stifled a giggle. Ah yes, her smile was a proud  
and happy one. Minako knew *her* superiors would  
be very proud at all that she had accomplished so far.  
The planned events had been set into motion and now  
it was up to nature to take its course. Oh, but Minako  
knew nature had its way of taking its time which is  
why she had helped pushed it along.  
"Kami, all my co-workers at the lab will  
never let me live this down." She looked at Mamoru and  
quietly told him to shush his mutterings. His smile was  
nervous and probably as strained as Usagi's. He kept  
pulling at the tie he had worn today and she couldn't  
wait for his and Usagi's reaction on the commercial.  
"I'm sure it can't be that bad…" he mumbled.  
Minako shot him a sidelong glance and  
couldn't help but let that small evil giggle escape. Oh,  
how she loved the technological advances of computer  
graphics.  
"Here it comes! Everyone, quiet!"  
The whispers died down and as everyone  
got to view the first airing of Hershey's commercial of their  
newest product just in time for Valentine's Day: dark  
chocolate bon bons in the shape of cute little hearts,  
each individually wrapped in special red foil.  
First came the box of candy. It floated  
amongst puffy white clouds in a blue sky. Funky music, a  
nice light show and then came Cupid, anxiously awaiting  
a boon from his mother Aphrodite that would help spread  
love all over the world. And what ever could that precious  
gift be? Why, Hershey's Dark Chocolate Bon Bons, of  
course!  
And then there was that nice close up scene  
of Cupid taking the first, luscious bite. The viewer could  
see how he rolled that piece of chocolate around in his  
mouth, savoring the sweet taste, before swallowing it.  
Following that, Cupid slowly ran his tongue over his lips  
and pondered for a moment. There was a pause and  
then Cupid's grin of approval and a thumbs up. These  
delectable treats would be just the thing to help in his  
mission.  
The commercial was over and the next came  
on, but no one had moved to resume their duties. They  
were somewhat frozen in shock. One woman dared to  
turn her head to look at Mamoru and then to the TV  
screen and then back to Mamoru again, her eyes  
practically undressing him, although his outfit was  
conservative. A few other women followed the first's  
actions, their eyes wide with amazement. Those same  
pairs of eyes then narrowed in what could only be  
described as expressing carnal lust.  
A strangled gasp escaped from Mamoru's  
throat and he turned to Usagi who's eyes were still wide  
open with disbelief. She looked at him also, unable to  
say anything. However, her mind was running at full  
speed. She had known Mamoru was one good looking  
guy, but damn, that commercial had made Mamoru  
look sizzling hot! She had heard that the camera added  
10 pounds of weight but in Mamoru's case, it had added  
10 pounds of lean muscle. She hadn't known he could  
look so buff!  
Her mouth moved up and down but still, no  
sound came out.  
"So, what did everyone think?" Minako's  
loud and cheerful voice broke everyone out of their  
stunned reverie.  
"Minako, who let you near an airbrush?"  
Usagi asked, running a hand through her hair shakily.  
"Oh how dare you insult Mamoru-san like  
that, Tsukino-san!" one of the women reprimanded,  
sidling up to one very red Mamoru.  
"That was an all natural Mamoru we saw,"  
another woman chimed in, placing herself on Mamoru's  
other side.  
Usagi rolled her eyes, threw her hands up  
in the air and walked away, muttering, "Give me a break,"  
under her breath.  
  
Two days later found Mamoru again at the  
studio. He had been called to come in and do a couple  
more versions of the commercials, so that there would  
be a little variety for the producers to air. It was the last  
shooting and because there weren't many workers  
around, he was helping the staff clean up the studio.  
He was about to pick up a bow and its  
arrows when he saw Usagi walking past him.  
"Usagi, hey!" He hadn't talked to her since  
the day they had seen the commercial for the first time  
and he missed her… as much as he hated to admit it.  
She had become a part of his daily life because he was  
now used to seeing her. And since he hadn't seen her in  
what seemed like forever (no one had to know how  
cliché that sounded), he had the biggest urge to just  
talk to her.  
"Yes, Mamoru-san?" She was standing in  
front of him, waiting patiently for him to speak. The  
problem was… he didn't know what to say.  
"Erm… how have you been?" he asked  
lamely.  
She smiled slightly. "Fine, thank you. And  
you?"  
She sounded so formal. It bothered him. "I'm  
good." A moment of silence passed between them and  
Mamoru scrambled to think of something to break it. "So  
what did the Powers to Be say about the commercial?"  
"Oh, they liked it very much and it seems that  
I'll be getting that promotion I've long awaited for."  
"That's great! Congratulations." Kami, he was  
getting nowhere today.  
"Thank you. And I must give you my congrats.  
I do believe you're the first person ever to acquire 10 fan  
clubs, on-line and off-line, in a two day period over a  
candy commercial."  
Ouch. He had forgotten about that. It was an  
unpleasant after effect of the commercial. The day after he  
had been called by at least five modeling agencies and  
walking down the street suddenly became an adventure.  
He hadn't thought that many people watched TV!  
Especially young girls! The day after, yesterday, he had  
actually received mail from these teenagers. It still boggled  
his mind of how they could have gotten his home address.  
It didn't sit well with him at all. The commercial, to put it  
simply, had been a big success.  
"Well, that. Believe me, it hasn't exactly been a  
fun experience." She looked at him doubtfully and he rushed  
to explain. "Sure, being recognized is okay, but having  
someone yell, "Look, it's Cupid boy!" from across the street  
is somewhat embarrassing. And the girls!" She raised an  
eyebrow and he turned beet red. "Okay, so I did lack  
somewhat in that department, but really, I don't recall ever  
giving out my number to fifty women all looking for a date  
with me."  
"And have you gone on any?"  
He blinked. "Any what?" he asked dumbly.  
She sighed. "Dates! Have you gone out with  
any of those fifty admirers of yours?"  
"What? No! Of course not, they're complete  
strangers." He suddenly grinned as a thought came to him.  
"Why do you ask?"  
This time, it was she who blushed. "For no  
reason. I was just curious."  
He leaned closer towards her, so close that  
she could feel his breath across her face. "Would you like  
to go on a date? I think I could fit you in," he whispered  
huskily.  
She whacked him with the folder she was  
holding. "Fit me in? I don't think so. Try again."  
He rubbed the area on his arm where she had  
hit him and smiled. "Fine, I will. Usagi, I would be most  
pleased if you would have dinner with me this Friday night."  
She looked at him, not expecting his words.  
"I… I have to think about it. Excuse me." She quickly  
walked, practically ran, away from him. Mamoru frowned  
slightly, wondering if he had said anything wrong.  
Minako, who had been standing nearby, also  
frowned. Usagi wasn't letting nature take its course. She  
was supposed to have said yes. And Mamoru wasn't  
helping either by acting this way. At the rate he was going,  
he would never get anywhere. Now what could she do to  
help? She saw Mamoru pick up the bow and arrow,  
inspect it and then play around with it. He strung an arrow  
and before she could stop him, he had let the thing fly.  
With a cringe, she watched it hit a woman   
  



	7. Chapter 7

I think it's sad, but I have to do it anyway. I mean, even I forgot what   
happened before. ^_~   
  
Short Recap: Mamoru just finished shooting his commercial/photos,   
and   
whatnot. He's being chased after by a few thousand girls (give or take   
^_~). He asks Usagi out, but she doesn't exactly give him an answer.   
Later, we find him playing with the bow and arrow prop, in which the   
arrow   
goes flying, and hits someone accidentally.   
  
::ponders:: that should've been in point form. ::shrugs:: oh well. ^_~   
  
===   
Patch's AN's: Oy, do my eyes deceive me? *rubs eyes*   
Iie! It's true, Mizu has written the next chapter!   
That means... that means... O.O *runs off screaming*   
  
Mizu's AN's: O.o;; ::coughs:: now that we know that   
Kana-sweetie-pie is a half-demon, we can expect her to   
go rabid after reading this chapter. ::wanders off   
into the kitchen:: (Ah hem! No questions about her   
poppa...)   
^_~   
  
Disclaimer: Mizu and I had to go to court last week.   
It seems we can't agree on who claims ownership on   
that nummy toga of Mamoru's. But we solved the problem!   
*sporting a black eye, holds up piece of cloth*   
Half 'n' half! Oh, everything else belongs to Naoko,   
as usual.   
  
  
***   
Cupid's Wayward Arrow   
By Patch & Mizu   
  
Chapter 7 : Say WHAT?!   
Rated R for a bit of swearing.   
***   
  
Cringing, Mamoru turned to meet the target of his   
badly aimed arrow. Perhaps, just perhaps, this person   
would forgive him for shooting a hard, wooden arrow   
that could have possibly cracked their skull in two   
different places, and thus, given them a terminal   
concussion that could turn them into a vegetable for   
whatever was left of their lifespan. Just maybe.   
  
Automatically, he swerved to meet his judge, jury and   
possibly executioner-although, he sorely hoped that   
they would decline the latter-most occupation.   
Without   
sparing the simplest of glances, he bowed in a formal   
apology, his head narrowly missed the fake marble   
column by a hairsbreadth. Whoa, close call.   
Retribution for his actions? Nah...   
  
"Gomen ne, gomen ne, gomen ne, gomen ne..." He   
muttered repeatedly, until he thought that he'd spewed   
out enough apologies to the stranger. He heaved a   
sigh, thought his predicament over, and proceeded to   
think about the consequences of his accidental   
actions.   
  
Most annoyingly, the term, "Assault," came to mind,   
as his eyes widened in the most adorable, mortified   
expression possible. Yeah, that was all that he   
needed   
now. Can't have his fame without cost-can't have your   
  
mochi and eat it too.   
  
He summed up the courage to take a peek at the   
arrow's   
prey, surprised when he was met with the lovely face   
of a rather stunning young woman-and a lovesick sigh.   
  
Uh oh. It was one of *those* sighs-the ones that   
Motoki received at the arcade.   
  
Well, multiply that description by about, oh, I don't   
  
know, infinity plus one, and perhaps we could   
visualize   
the scene before us, or something to that effect.   
Great, another admirer-just what he needed.   
  
"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to get on a list   
to dump me into a garbage bag and take me home to   
discover your unearthly delights, meet your parents,   
or sit in as your personal chocolate-feeder in my   
undies. Oh, and to answer the most popular questions   
old ladies have been asking me for weeks: they're   
boxers, not briefs." he sighed loudly. Noticing that   
he had said the random thought aloud, his throat   
tightened in embarrassment. Face drained of any   
identifiable color as he gulped audibly.   
  
She was all legs, dimples and err-bounce. Mamoru   
blushed a healthy vibrant red that would've looked   
wonderful on a tomato's resume, but unfortunately,   
finding him in the produce department would be rather   
difficult. (Oh, don't we wish we could just pick him   
up at the grocery store?)   
  
Stereotypically speaking, she looked like she would   
have the brain capacity of a walnut, or worse, a...a   
pea!   
  
Her grin grew wider as she inched toward him,   
attempting to seem modest. Quite difficult, since it   
seemed to be riding up her, he coughed, point of   
inflection on her backside.   
  
MODEST?! In *those* pieces of cloth? What was she   
trying to be? The greatest oxymoron on two shapely   
legs? Mamoru muttered to himself mentally, eyeing her   
  
outfit (if one could even *call* that an outfit, let   
alone a bathing suit) with distaste. Of course, he   
was a man, with all the stereotypical manly urges, but   
his tastes ran more along the lines of 'classy', not   
'hussy'. Sure, there was only a three-letter   
difference in the two terms. To him, they meant the   
world-just as Usagi meant the world to him.   
  
He blinked. What was he talking about? Usagi? The   
world? No, she'd have to win over his love for   
chocolate and black coffee first....but, her lips   
must taste like chocolate, and she could make him just   
  
as perky as black coffee could-   
  
HENTAI! Here we go again with the practice of mental   
  
self-flagellation... He halted the string of thoughts   
to a knot, or a break, whichever metaphor you prefer   
most. All right, perhaps black coffee wasn't the   
perfect way to describe Usagi.   
  
"Huh?" He uttered shortly. The woman had been   
speaking to him.   
  
"As I was saying," she eyed him carefully, almost...   
lovingly. He cringed-she seemed too air-headed to   
notice. "I think you make a great cupid. You look hot   
in a diaper-"   
  
His eye color flattened to a dull blue. "It's a   
toga."   
  
Yep, thighs of steel, brains of a peanut.   
  
"Whatever," she waved her hand dismissively,   
spreading expensive, toxic perfume into the air. "I   
have some friends who own a bar. Perhaps we could get   
a drink tonight?" She looked at him earnestly, eyes   
somehow glassy.   
  
Perhaps Mamoru was seeing things again. How the heck   
  
did she achieve such an excellent puppy-dog   
expression?   
  
She cleared her throat, awaiting her answer   
impatiently. He shot her an irritated expression, but   
somehow, she saw it as an amorous glance. Any moment,   
she would melt into a puddle of bad perfume and thin   
rags.   
  
He had to think of an excuse-quickly.   
  
"Uhh..." He turned his head from one direction to   
the other, hoping that the objects around would   
inspire him. Carefully, he inched away, hands   
outstretched to point to toward the general direction   
of "there". "I have to...go wash...my..." Car?   
Apartment? Underwear? "TOGA!" He blurted out.   
Abruptly after he finished the sentence, his face   
contorted into a strange looking frown. Oh well, an   
excuse was an excuse.   
  
"I thought you were finished shooting?" She asked   
quizzically, vibrant smile ever-present upon her   
radiant features. Well, well, well, what do we have   
here? There is intelligence in that pretty little   
head.   
  
Mamoru inched farther away, making sure that the door   
  
was right to his back. "Yeah, I am...but the toga   
needs...err...special attention! Yeah, that's right!"   
He restrained himself from slapping his palm on his   
forehead.   
  
She seemed to take the excuse to be genuine. Perhaps   
intelligence is just something that comes by her every   
  
lifetime, or so. He wasn't doting upon the second   
segment of previous compound sentence.   
  
"Well, hurry back!" She shouted from the other end   
of the room, where he had just been standing, holding   
a   
dummy bow and arrow. He grinned nervously, "I will!"   
He stepped through the gates to freedom, muttering to   
himself, "and in the meantime, perhaps get yourself a   
lobotomy. Yeesh."   
  
***   
  
Flowers. They were flowers. They were beautiful.   
They were beautiful flowers that spoke of horrors from   
  
her past.   
  
She snapped the small card shut, face frozen in a   
horrified expression.   
  
"No no, it can't be him..." She shook her head.   
  
Another voice continued her train of thoughts. "Of   
course it's me, baby!" A blond man leaned casually on   
the doorframe leading to Usagi's office, a goofy grin   
upon his face. Mr. What's-his-face strolled toward a   
plush chair, sitting upon it with practiced cat-like   
grace.   
  
She stomped toward him, a giant bunch of sunflowers   
in hand. "What are you doing here?" She hissed,   
refraining herself from batting his head with the   
aforementioned bouquet. He gave her another goofy   
grin that annoyed her to the high heavens-and he knew   
it too.   
  
"Why," he placed an arm around her small shoulders,   
acting just as immature as he was back when they were   
an item, to her mortification. "I'm here to see you."   
  
He winked at her.   
  
She twitched.   
  
He didn't notice-darn. Hoped it would've given him a   
  
hint or two.   
  
"You see," he continued, polishing his fingernails on   
  
his crisp, clean, Armani suit that seemed   
two-sizes-too   
-big for him. "I just got a promotion-"   
  
"As what?" She snapped irritably, "head *rat*?"   
  
He didn't hear her, as usual. "-and I thought that   
I'd give you a little present to celebrate. What do   
you say? Rekindle that old spark?" He raised his   
eyebrows a few times suggestively. She actually did   
bat him over the head with the bouquet of flowers.   
  
"Baby, I knew you'd say yes," he answered, after he   
recovered from a direct swat to the gelled head.   
Insert another goofy smile here.   
  
"Look," she contained her voice to a mere shriek.   
Impressive, in her terms. "I don't love you anymore.   
In fact, I don't even *like* you. Just because I was   
fifteen, and not very level-headed-although, I must   
have been out of *my mind* to go out with the likes of   
*you*--it doesn't mean that things haven't changed   
between us. I still hate you because you were a   
conniving bastard who deserved no less than eternal   
damnation in a stench bog!"   
  
She took a deep breath, surprised that she even spent   
that much air on him. She spared a glance at him, only   
to see that he still seemed his happy, weasel-like,   
little self. The man didn't even have the tact to   
look   
crestfallen!   
  
She sighed heavily. "Some things never change." She   
  
shook her head resignedly. Perhaps if she grabbed   
that   
expensive imported vase by her books and smashed it   
over his head, he might get some sort of a clue.   
Never   
mind the fact that it cost her almost a week's worth   
of pay at the International Antiquities Fair... He   
took her shoulders and drew her carefully toward him.   
They were still at a respectable distance...sort of.   
  
"Look, I know what we had was special to you. It was   
  
special to me too-or did you think that the great   
Kentaro didn't have a heart?" His eyes softened a   
notch, and a significant amount of affection poured   
out from his gaze.   
  
"Well, you certainly didn't show any signs of having   
one during our relationship," she muttered   
sarcastically.   
  
His eyebrows knit together, puzzled. "What's wrong,   
Usagi-chan? You've become negative, sarcastic-icy."   
  
She shot him a withering look. If he was a plant,   
he'd be a dried husk by now. You can't have   
everything now, can you?   
  
Again, he ignored her, but was not oblivious to her   
expression. "What happened to the bubby, vivacious   
Usagi I once knew and," he hesitated, as if not quite   
sure if the next word would still make sense to her,   
"loved?"   
  
She swallowed. This was the Kentaro she knew and   
loved, all those eons ago. It was the same Kentaro   
who showed her the true colors of his soul, leaving   
her to recoil back from its ugliness. He seemed   
sincere now. Then again, he seemed sincere all those   
years ago as well. What would a decade or two do to   
one's soul? Would it refine it? Or allow it to   
tarnish even more so than it was before?   
  
She bit her quivering lip, willing it to still   
itself. She couldn't even answer her own questions,   
and the thought itself scared her. Uncertainty was one   
of the few things that she feared. "I remember, Ken,"   
she whispered softly, refusing to meet his eyes. She   
let him draw her into his familiar embrace,   
temporarily wiping away the worst parts of their rocky   
past with better memories of a happier, and brighter   
Usagi who was deeply in love with a handsome Kentaro.   
  
"Then, will you give me another chance?" He seemed   
genuinely earnest in his request, not expectant, as he   
  
used to be back in the past. He smiled, and it made   
him look handsome instead of silly.   
  
To his dismay, she shook her head-a negative. "No, I   
  
don't think I bring myself to do that. To forget   
about   
what you did." She brought her gaze to level with   
his.   
He seemed saddened by her response.   
  
"It was that bad, huh?" He remarked wryly.   
  
"Yeah. Quite."   
  
It wasn't the end of the world. He allowed himself   
another goofy grin. "Well, no one said anything about   
not   
being friends, ne?"   
  
Despite the familiar feelings writhing in the pit of   
her stomach, she nodded appreciatively. "No one   
objected to friendship...I accept."   
  
The goofy grin grew wider. "Come here, baby!" He   
entrapped her in a giant bear hug, burying his head in   
  
her shoulder.   
  
Slowly, her free arm wrapped around his waist as she   
was   
drawn in.   
  
"Love ya," he grinned happily.   
  
"Love you too, Ken." She smiled genuinely, basking   
in   
the friendly embrace.   
  
***   
  
Mamoru strolled idly past Usagi open door. He   
allowed   
himself a glance, but rather, stayed for the view.   
What was all this?   
  
At first, he thought she was just meeting a family   
member.   
The man *was* blond, and he did look like her-or at   
least,   
from the backside. One couldn't really describe   
someone   
accurately by just looking at their backside. Well,   
they   
could-but he wasn't a back-analyst, if the profession   
existed. Why was that man holding her so close?   
  
"Get your hands off her!" He whispered violently to   
himself, eyes ablaze with jealous fury. And what were   
  
those flowers doing in her left hand? They looked a   
bit   
battered, but they were still flowers wrapped in nice,   
clear plastic and yellow ribbon!   
  
He caught his breath when he heard her say, "I   
accept."   
  
She didn't...she couldn't...Numerous possibilities   
and   
excuses came to mind, however, the most prominent one   
rose above the rest. Twisting around the door frame,   
he squinted, attempting to see if there was a wedding   
ring encircling her fourth finger. Unfortunately, the   
  
blasted bouquet of sunflowers blocked his view. He   
was   
really beginning to dislike sunflowers lately. He did   
  
see a glint, however, and it was enough to confirm is   
ill-founded suspicions.   
  
His heart sank when he heard the man profess his love   
  
for her in the most casual way possible. He didn't   
even deserve to say it like that to her!   
  
Although, he didn't know him, let alone see his face,   
but at that point in time, even the backside was   
enough   
to make him hurl.   
  
Angry and disappointed, he padded off toward the   
elevators, and home.   
  
***   
  
"So, buddy, ol' pal? Shall we go off to celebrate   
our   
newfound friendship?" Ken led Usagi toward the   
entrance to her office.   
  
"Only if you'll hold back on the alcohol. I know you   
  
can't hold your drinks very well," she jabbed him in   
the ribs, reminiscing about previous experiences that   
left behind spilled beer, broken glass and bleeding   
noses.   
  
He smiled while he fished out the keys to his new   
convertible.   
  
"Deal."   
  
***   
  
Shame shame shame, mizu-wizu... ::wide grin::   
  
E-mails: (gee, I wonder why this is up...)   
tokiya_ensui@yahoo.com   
patchkhan1@hotmail.com   



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